Garlic

Just this week, for my birthday, I went out to a place in town called Antonio's Garlic Clove. They specialize in garlic. This was very lucky, as I enjoy garlic very much and cook it in most of my food. Do your worst, Antonio.

He did.

To tide us over until the appetizer arrived, we had bread and minced roasted garlic in olive oil and balsamic vinegar. It was very nice. The appetizer was toasted bread stuffed with brie cheese and roasted garlic cloves. The main course, for me, was the stinking steak. It came in a garlic-cream sauce and was stuffed with garlic, accompanied by garlic mashed potatoes. I enjoyed every bite of it, until the next morning. I think, all-in-all, I must have eaten about four bulbs of garlic. Every pore leaked garlic. Every breath I took reeked of garlic. I could barely move, having this large garlic infused lump in my stomach.

It was worse than the time I drank a Big Tim. Thankfully my I rejected what remained of my meal the next morning. At least the vomit got the taste of garlic out of my mouth.